Broken Mirror Eyes
by aisarete
Summary: Neji is perfect. Neji is innocent. Lee intends to rectify that.


**Title:** Broken-Mirror Eyes  
**Author Name:** authoraisarete  
**Rating: PG-13 (take that, stupid new rating thingy!)**  
**Spoilers:** um, a little bit for the sister story... but that's it.  
**Main Character(s):** Neji, Lee  
**Ship(s):** NejiLee (kinda)  
**Summary:** Neji is perfect. Neji is innocent. Lee intends to rectify that.  
**Disclaimer: **You all know I didn't write Naruto! Because if I had Naruto, Sasuke and Gaara would be an item. XD and so would Kiba and Shino. And Iruka and Kakashi, and Neji and Lee, and Hinata and Temari, and...  
**Author's Notes:** Hey, I haven't posted anything for a long time! Ya know why? Cuz I promised myself I wouldn't post anything except the responses to the challenges I picked up until I had posted said challenge responses. But I have writer's block, and high school. And I am addicted to Naruto. I promise to post them soon... Just as soon as I get school under control. So... read on, and R&R, please!

It was hard. No matter what he did, he could never win, and that was so very hard to accept.

He had never expected to win easily, but even as he got close _-so close-_ to winning, he had never felt farther away. He felt weak and inferior. Empty. Defiled.

He felt defeated, and he was.

He trained constantly; teaching himself whatever someone else was unwilling to teach. He poured over attacks and movements and motions and wondered _-why?-_ why they didn't work. They never worked. It was as though he had made a miscalculation somewhere: this punch should have been pulled back sooner; this kick should have landed a little higher. But that wasn't it. He knew that what he lacked in ninjutsu and genjutsu he made up for by hitting every move dead on, every time.

He felt something was wrong with his fighting. Not the style or technique or even his complete lack of use in jutsus could account for the sense of _wrongness_ that permeated each fight. His taijutsu was perfect but his mind was spinning and dizzy. Nothing quite made sense and he couldn't think straight sometimes for hours afterwards. His body moved of it's own exactly choreographed accord while his stomach rebelled and his head attempted to float off of his shoulders like a balloon in a gust of wind and his skin tingled pleasantly every time contact was made andreminding him of the _wrongness_ of the fightThe wrongness was so much more obvious when they touched because it contrasted so horribly with the euphoria. It was amazing he was still even standing but he was just that kind of person. He fought, and fought hard, for everything he had. He fought so long and hard that he would just keep fighting _-never stopping-_ never resting or slackening until he was completely knocked out and occasionally not even then. He had been known to fight while unconscious before.

He was perfect and good and bright, but it was so forced _-wrong-_. He had to work so hard for it, and he could never stop _-never stop fighting-_ because people had come to expect perfection from him. His perfection was sullied, just below the surface, and no one knew it. While Neji… Neji was cold and distant. He was shrewd and calculating and often cruel. He was nothing to Neji _-no matter how hard he tried-_ except perhaps, if he could manage to get Neji riled up enough, a minor annoyance. Yet still Neji was perfect; Neji was beautiful. Neji was expected to be perfect and Neji decidedly was, much more perfect than he ever could be, because Neji didn't have to try. And from this easy perfection, he thought, stemmed perfect innocence. Or the other way around. Neji was perfect. There was no way to beat him. He realized that to beat perfection it must first be made imperfect. He had to rip that beauty away from him somehow.

He had to destroy Neji's perfect innocence.

For years he knew this, and kept the knowledge locked tightly away inside. Neji was perfect. Perfect was Neji. If Neji were no longer perfect, though he wasn't quite sure that was possible, would Neji still be Neji? If he were no longer perfect and no longer Neji, would he still be able to say, in all honesty, that he had gotten what he had worked for all these years? Would he still have beating Neji? Would Neji be worth beating at all?

Could he stand to be the one to break Neji?

He never even attempted it, hesitating in his own mind. Never let the thought cross his mind when they were near.

But when the opportunity arose, he took it without stopping to think.

He had run into his former teacher and close friend Maito Gai after just coming back from a mission. He no longer looked like a miniature form of his mentor, wearing a black tee shirt under his Jounin vest and cream colored Bermuda shorts, and he had long forsaken his weights except for training. His hair was now grown out; a long, thick braid swung past his waist and his bangs reached his chin. The older man looked worried and when asked after he said he was concerned for Neji. That something had happened within the Hyuuga clan and he thought that Neji may have been affected badly. Neji apparently hadn't left his apartment in the two days since it had occurred. Gai asked him if he would check in on Neji, hoping his youthful exuberance would have a positive effect. It never had any effect on Neji before, he though, but he smiled and agreed. He had never quite got the hang of saying 'no' to Maito Gai, but he doubted anyone else could, either. Except Hatake Kakashi-san, but that was much different.

He walked slowly to the apartment where Neji lived. He remembered how long Neji had fought with his family to let him live outside the clan compound. There were actually times when Neji would smile, the week after he had gotten away from his clan. He looked lovely when he smiled. Lovely and perfect and so innocent. But they were few and short, and only during that one week after Neji had left the compound. Oh how he wished to see Neji smile one more time. He had the picture locked in his mind. It was one of his most treasured, precious memories.

The Neji that opened the door was not what Lee expected. Most would not think much was wrong, but Lee could see. The way he flung open the door stiffly, the way his eyes looked wary and tired; the way his hair was loose and falling in front of his eyes, looking almost as though it were wet. Yes, something was wrong. But even in his wrongness Neji was still perfect.

He invited himself in, guiding Neji to the living room. Neji sunk down onto a floor cushion, motioning vaguely for Lee to sit, which he did. After much questioning, Lee finally got Neji to explain.

Hinata was gone.

Not just missing, or kidnapped. She had left; forsaken her village and her clan. And she had killed Naruto before she went. Neji watched her do it.

Lee was shocked. He had not anticipated this. He almost backed down when he saw the lost look in Neji's eyes. He thought briefly about Naruto, who had never gotten to be Hokage, and Hinata, who had always seemed so kind. Then one perfect tear slid down Neji's face. Lee watched it make its trail, fascinated. He had never seen Neji cry before. He didn't think it was possible. He wondered why he cried now. Hinata and Neji had never been the closest of relatives, nor were Naruto and Neji the best of friends. In Lee's clear, tidy mind, this action did not seem to fit. He reached out and wiped the tear away.

As soon as his hand touched Neji's cheek, he felt a jolt of realization pull him towards his goal. This was it. This was his answer. In that moment of unguarded emotion between the two of them, Lee saw that it was now or never. And he took the leap.

Neji looked at him. His hair was tangled and fanned around his head wildly. There were bruises all over his body. It was surprising that he was conscious. But still he looked at Lee with this sad resignation; a person who saw before them their insanity setting in but could not stop it. This sent a thrill to Lee's mind and he grinned at Neji. Another perfect tear slipped down Neji's cheek and Lee saw the light go out behind his eyes, watched them break like a mirror. His perfect innocence had been destroyed. Lee remembered that it was bad luck to break mirrors. He got up and left.

Still Neji watched him.

The next day Neji seemed to be fully recuperated. He was out and about, buying groceries and greeting people curtly like he always had. Lee saw him around noon near the Jounin training grounds and mentioned that he seemed tense, suggesting a pick-up fight. Nothing serious, he said. But the other ninja had known them both for years and followed surreptitiously, knowing that their fights were always serious.

They began as soon as they reached the training ground. Punch, thrust, dive. Lee's mind was empty of all thoughts. Throw, kick, jab. He was calm, poised; completely in control of himself. Dodge, stab, spin. Neji fought as he always had, without fault. Duck, sprint, slash- **slam**.

Lee had Neji pressed up against a tree. A kunai rested dangerously close to his jugular. Neji had no weapons in his hands, which were down at his sides. His broken-mirror eyes widened as he looked up at Lee. Lee saw his face reflected back at him and noted the deep, even gash that marred his hatai-ate. He knew he had less than seconds before Neji pulled a weapon and fought him off, and he would never again manage to have such control over not only himself, but over Neji. He leaned down and kissed Neji fiercely.

He watched as Neji's broken-mirror eyes widened. He watched as Neji's hands fluttered uselessly between pushing him away or going for a weapon before gripping Lee's vest tightly. He watched as Neji's broken-mirror eyes slide shut. And he watched as they flew open again seconds later when Lee drew his kunai swiftly and viciously across Neji's throat.

A soft breath escaped between them, and Lee tasted blood in Neji's mouth. Neji sunk to the ground, braced against the tree with Lee leaning over him. His hands slid down helplessly beside him. Neji looked up at him and smiled. He was beautiful when he smiled. Lee smiled back and wondered distantly why it hurt. A tear slipped down his cheek. It gathered dirt and left a trail of perfect skin behind it. Neji reached up and wiped the tear away. In that one instant, Lee felt truly perfect. He looked into Neji's broken-mirror eyes for the last time and saw that they matched his own.

He stood up swiftly, unsettled. He reached up absently to finger his hatai-ate, feeling the scarred metal. Well, then. Lee looked back down at Neji, who was sliding sideways into unconsciousness. Lee caught him and laid him down gently. He brushed a stray hair out of Neji's face. Standing again, he walked into the forest and did not look back again.

There was nothing left for him in Konohagakure.


End file.
